


Harbor

by sageness



Category: DCU, Teen Titans
Genre: Canon - Comics, Cover Art, F/M, M/M, Story within a Story, Telekinesis, Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-08
Updated: 2004-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-03 07:58:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/pseuds/sageness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teen Titans.</p><p>Kon writes porn for Tim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harbor

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to wanderlustlover for the beta and to __fallen for phenomenal support and for gifting me the icon which demanded the fic.

_                          Flood-tide below me! I watch you face to face;  
                          Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high!  
                          I see you also face to face._

                                                    —Walt Whitman, from "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry"

  


"Damn it!" Kon glared at the wrecked remains of the helicopter and strode away.

Bart giggled. "Sucks to be you."

Robin dangled from Wonder Girl's wrist as they returned from delivering Riot to meta containment. She let go just before touchdown, and he landed lightly on the tarmac.

"Oh, man," she said, "I was too busy catching him to see how bad it was."

"Thanks, Cassie." Kon folded his arms over his chest and stared at them in turn. "Okay, so who won?"

"Well, Robin knew how to de-phase Riot's other selves and Bart got the civilians out of the way...."

"But you tied him up and handed him over," Tim said. "So, this was your capture."

Bart nodded. "That's fair."

Kon scuffed his boots on the pavement. "I got him out of the chopper!"

"By dismantling it," Tim said quietly.

"In _midair!_" Bart howled.

The others laughed as Kon continued to kick the ground. Cassie winked at him. "Property damage is property damage."

"I hate this rule."

"It's an incentive," she answered with a mischievous grin.

"Says the girl who never breaks anything!" Kon shot back with a halfhearted glare, but they all knew he wasn't serious. Still, he sighed dramatically for appearances and raised his hands in resigned submission. "Fine, what is it this time?"

"I want you to write a story."

"You want me to _what_?" Kon stared at her, then remembered to shut his mouth.

"Write a story. At least five pages, due by next weekend."

"A story..."

"And it has to be porn," she said, blinking innocently, "between two guys"

"It _what_?"

Bart and Tim both were standing together, watching Kon, and snickering. "_And_," Cassie added imperiously, a wide grin spreading across her face, "you have to write it for Tim."

"Hey!" Tim turned to her in surprise. "That isn't fair!"

"I won." She beamed in triumph. "It's my choice."

Bart started to laugh. "That's like, the best idea ever!"

"Isn't it? It came to me last week while I was watching TV." She and Bart were already in motion, heading away from the evacuated hangar and off in the general direction of San Francisco.

"No way! What show?" Bart's voice drifted back to them, and then they were out of earshot.

"Uh—"

"You can still kick her ass on the practice mats," Tim suggested and held out his hands. "You ready?"

"I, uh...yeah." Kon grabbed hold of Tim's forearms and lifted off.

  


* * *

  
 

"What the hell am I going to write?" Kon burst out of the pool, sending a small tidal wave lashing back over its edges. Bart was standing on the surface of the water of the shallow end, still in his Kid Flash uniform, doing something that involved vibrating molecules and apparent levitation. There had been a complex explanation, but Kon hadn't paid attention.

"Maybe you should ask him what he likes?" Bart suggested, scowling in annoyance as he vibrated pool water out of his bright yellow boots.

"I can't—" Kon stopped in midair, water still streaming from his legs and swim trunks. "I don't think I really want to know that about him."

"Okay," Bart answered, dodging the plume of spray as Kon plunged back into the water. "But, you know, you could research it. The library—"

"They don't have porn in the public library," Kon groused when he finally broke the surface.

"Actually, the San Francisco Public Library has an impressive collection of gay erotica. About half the art selection is missing, but the fiction stacks—"

"Bart!"

"Or you could just surf the internet," he said, hopping up and down on the diving board. "But she _did_ say to write it for Tim, so maybe he could send you some links."

Kon groaned. "I hate this."

Bart skated across the surface of the pool and turned to face him from the opposite ledge. "You should just ask him."

  


* * *

  
 

Kon turned his head at the light tapping on his open door. He was sprawled on his bed, surrounded by books and loose pages of notes. It was a sad, sad day when he'd rather think about schoolwork than Cassie.

"Hey." Tim was leaning in the doorway in sweats, t-shirt, and his ever-present mask.

"What's up?" Kon asked, sitting up and trying like crazy to ignore his anxiety. This was his best friend. He wasn't supposed to be nervous around Tim.

"You brought homework?" Tim asked, surveying the drift of paper on the bed.

"Major project due Monday." Kon nodded at the chair tucked neatly into his shiny, barren desk. "You know, you're allowed to come in if you want."

Tim smirked and stepped into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. After a moment, he was leaning forward in the chair, elbows on his knees, focusing the kind of attention on Kon that made him want to reach out and rip the mask right off his face. But when Tim spoke, his voice was unexpectedly mild. "You know Cassie was just teasing, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"And it's not as if she wants you to break into the Watchtower."

Kon tugged self-consciously at his t-shirt. "It's just...embarrassing. I mean, this is worse than naked barrel rolls around the Golden Gate."

"You totally _enjoyed_ that."

"Well, yeah. Did I tell you three different women flashed me?"

Tim snorted softly. "Yeah, you may have mentioned that a couple of dozen times."

Kon grinned at the memory. "It was cool. But this?" He stopped and scrubbed a hand over his hair in frustration. "I have no idea what to write."

"Write whatever you like," Tim said automatically.

"But...man, I'm supposed to write it for you."

"I'm failing to see how that changes anything."

Kon grimaced and bit his tongue. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't be too weird. And no way in hell was he going to ask Tim for porn links, much less to tell him what kind of stuff he got off on. He'd ask Oracle for recommendations first—and hell would be a frozen wasteland before that happened.

"It's just a story," Tim said with a casual shrug. "Write what you like and don't stress over it."

Kon rolled his eyes. "Right."

Tim stood up, his typical amused smirk on his face. "I'll see you in the morning. Kory's doing another Supervillain of the Week after breakfast."

"Great. 'Night." Kon watched Tim leave, and then turned back to his notes.

  


* * *

  
 

>   
> Jake sat at his computer with his pants open and his hand around his dick. On the screen two guys were going at it, and it made him so hot.  
> 

  
 

Kon deleted and started over.

  


>   
> Once upon a time there was this guy who really liked this other guy. The problem was that even though they both worked part time in San Francisco, they really didn't get to spend much time...  
> 

  
 

Kon groaned and shoved his chair away from his desk. This was _stupid_! He was going to get Cassie back in a big way whenever he finally caught the bad guy and the wreckage was her fault. It could happen...right? Maybe? Or maybe he should ask Arsenal for a job. It wasn't like the Outsiders cared about how much damage Grace or Thunder did. And Thunder? That girl could obliterate some serious infrastructure.

At least no one had been hurt. That was the important thing. Right?

  


* * *

  
 

Kon was up all night Sunday finishing his history project. He was pretty proud of the paper, which was a comparison between McCarthy's communist witch-hunt and the conservative push toward an official register of all known metahumans. He kind of wanted to email a copy to Clark, although he was a little self-conscious about having used Lois as a source, even though her articles were far and away the best material he'd found. On the other hand, Clark would probably just reply back with some hokey 'Be cool, stay in school' garbage.

It'd be better to send him a copy once it had an A on it. Or maybe let Clark's mom send it straight to Lois.

  


* * *

  
 

Monday, he crashed as soon as he got home from school. It didn't help that he'd slammed three Zestis at lunch to get him through his afternoon classes. After that, the sugar low was so bad that for once he was happy to take the bus home. When he woke up at 3am, he devoured the heaping plate of leftovers Aunt Martha had put in the fridge for him, then set to cramming for his Math test. He tried to think of another story idea, but everything that came to mind sounded stupid.

  


* * *

  
 

Tuesday he got his third tardy of the term in English, so he spent the afternoon in detention. He sat there with his notebook open and pen poised, a look of fierce determination on his face. Guy porn. He could do this. Tim said to write whatever he liked. Whatever he liked. Which might mean, in an annoyingly subtle Tim-like way, that he wanted Kon to show him what he actually got off on. But...wasn't that kind of thing too weird to share?

Tana had been his first. He didn't really think about her much anymore. The way she died...no one could blame him if he let her memory slip away. Still, it made him laugh to remember his first blowjob. He'd been so surprised. None of the educational stuff the Cadmus techs had pumped into his brain while he was in the vat had remotely prepared him for what sex would be like. On a sheer sensory level—the first touch of her tongue was...he had no words. Only that from then on, he couldn't get enough. That was way back before...a lot of things, but especially before Superman was more than just an especially intimidating stranger he shared genes with. And before Lex Luthor was more than some famous bald billionaire with his name all over everything.

Clark and Lex...that was too revolting to think about, even if Superman did have the most perfect male body on the planet. Luthor was _evil_ and...no! He wasn't going to think about it! He couldn't do anything to change his DNA, and Tim had sworn he wouldn't let him go psycho, so there was no point in wigging out over it.

Kon shifted in the cramped school desk. What did he like? He started a list. Blowjobs. Fucking. Kissing. Getting that sweet spot on the side of his neck bitten with just the right pressure. He kind of missed that, actually. Sex was good, but it was the little stuff that made it fun. Nibbling and licking and making the girl giggle and squirm underneath him. Or when she pounced him and it turned into playful roughhousing. And there was nothing in the world like that moment when he slid into her body, all hot and tight and wet around his dick.

He looked down at his list and realized he'd gone from half-aroused to rock-hard just from thinking about it, and now he was imagining what Cassie would feel like wrapped around him. The last time they'd kissed, her lips were soft and she'd smelled a little like something from Aunt Martha's flower garden. With Cassie it was different because with her super-strength, he knew he didn't have to be as careful of hurting her. And yet, reality was brutal. Pacifism aside, Wonder Woman would probably cut off his balls with a kryptonite scalpel if he were ever foolish enough to go there.

Kon sat back, stretched, and then slid down in his seat. He had an idea. The room was arranged so the desks on each side faced a center aisle about two meters across, with the teacher's desk up at the front. From his seat in the back row, he had a clear view of the five other guys and two girls scattered around the room. Pretending for a moment that he was Robin, Kon doodled a thumbnail schematic in the margin of the page. The two guys facing him from across the room were on the soccer team. Both girls were stoner chicks who'd been caught smoking under the stairs. There was a tubby guy with greasy hair surreptitiously listening to music through a badly concealed earpiece. A pair of gangly boys, one of whom had a serious acne problem, sat several rows to Kon's right passing a sheet of paper back and forth between them. They were drawing what looked like a horde of demons, and Kon saw the spine of what looked like a D&amp;D manual peeking out from under the near one's binder.

If he were Tim, he would be able to come up with a plausible back story for all of them based solely on their clothes and what they were doing. Kon knew he wasn't that good, but it gave him somewhere to start.

  


>   
> Justin and Terry
> 
> Justin scored the winning goal and the crowd went nuts. They were on a streak. Nobody cared about soccer—it wasn't like football. But they were undefeated and Coach kept talking like if they kept this up, they could get the school to pay for new equipment or something.
> 
> Justin had sun-streaked brown hair and maybe the best shoulders Terry had ever seen. Somebody had said that soccer players had the healthiest bodies of any athletes, and, well, they were a beautiful thing to watch. That's all Terry was doing. He'd been benched for two months, ever since he blew out his knee in a bad collision on the field. It sucked, but the doc said he could start practice again in another couple of weeks. Till then, though, he was watching.  
> 

  
 

Kon reread it. He liked it a lot. It wasn't true, but it could be. As far as he knew, Justin and Terry weren't into each other, either, but that's what fiction was, right? Maybe? Besides, everyone said the soccer team was all gay anyway. Or at least that's what the football players claimed, but they might just be jealous because the soccer players were so much better looking.

The bell rang for the end of detention, and Kon was almost annoyed at having to leave. He was on a roll. And he could write about watching. Tim watched everything, and Kon had spent the first year of his non-vatted life in front of WGBS news cameras; plus, for however long he'd been in the lab before he woke up, he'd had people staring at him twenty-four seven. Watching and being watched were things he knew a lot about.

That night, though, he couldn't get back into the groove of writing. He tried typing out what he'd scrawled in his notebook, but he still stalled out at "watching". He didn't have any idea how he was going to get from there to the sex. Or what kind of sex to write once he did get there. He'd never actually done anything with a guy, not unless you counted combat training with Robin and Cyborg—which wasn't at all sexual, besides which, he'd believe Vic had a penis on the day he actually saw it, and, nutrient bath aside, that hadn't happened yet. As for Robin, besides being his best friend...well, the only person Kon remembered Tim showing any kind of real enthusiasm for at all was Nightwing. And he couldn't imagine him—

Except that he could. Kon blinked the image away, but it popped right back into his forebrain. Tim jerking off. Kon's mind ran rampant trying to guess what specifically about Nightwing would get Tim off. It was...distracting, distressing, and he couldn't get the thought out of his head. Tim was such a strange, multi-layered guy. He hid things so deeply—and yet he was so painfully good at what he did and so dedicated to doing it well. It was obvious how much Tim wanted to measure up as Robin. And Nightwing had helped train Tim. They might even have already.... Kon shuddered, belatedly realizing that it wasn't in horror at all. He was turned on. A lot.

Still, he told himself it was For Research Purposes Only when he typed "gay erotic fiction superhero" into the search engine.

He didn't write anything else Tuesday night, but he came three times and he knew in his heart that he would never, ever look at a comic book the same way again.

  


* * *

  
 

Wednesday, Kon zipped through his Math homework, skimmed the new History chapter, and gave up precisely three pages into _To Kill A Mockingbird_. He knew what shelf it was on in the Tower's DVD library. He'd watch it over the weekend.

Kon was just scrolling down to the good stuff in a short story about a British football team's goalie and the some-time drag queen he was secretly in love with when an encryption key sprang up in the center of his screen. He jumped in surprise, yanking his hand out of his lap where he'd been idly rolling his balls, waiting for the sex to happen.

He took a deep breath and okayed the text message connection with Tim. "What's up?" Kon typed.  
"Not much. Leaving for patrol soon. Thought I'd say hi."

"Ok... Hi."

"Heh. How's the story?"

"Don't ask."

"That bad?"

"She's really going to pay for this."

"::snicker::"

"Go ahead, laugh."

"I can't wait to read it."

"You are the ONLY person who's EVER going to see this, man."

"Show me what you have so far?"

"Not a chance."

"At least tell me who the characters are."

"Nope."

"Not even a hint?"

"Deal with it," Kon sent, waited a moment, and then typed, "So... any special requests, now that you've had a few days to think about it?"

There was a long pause before the messenger chimed again. "Write what you like."

"Yeah, well the problem with that is that I've only ever been with girls, dude."

"It's the same principle, isn't it?" came the reply, followed by a swift "Gotta go!" before he signed off.

Kon growled in aggravation. Then he went back to reading the story about the goalie sucking off the drag queen, then fucking him (him-her-him) hard against the balustered edge of the hotel terrace while victorious fans rioted and danced in the plaza below.

It triggered a memory. It had been Tana and there had been a bomb at Aloha Stadium...some college bowl game or something. It was an easy save and he didn't really remember the details. What he did remember was the overwhelming thrill of swooping down over the football field, after the device had exploded miles away over open sea. When he reappeared, the crowd had gone wild. The sheer noise level was incredible.

That evening as they were making out, he'd pressed Tana up against the plate glass of his bedroom window and taken her from behind. It was a gorgeous night, with a full moon glimmering on the water and a thousand lights sparkling up from the harbor below. She'd felt so.... Kon could feel a tinge of regret stirring at the corners of his consciousness. Reflexively, he pushed her memory back and found himself visualizing the muscular goalie and his artfully made-up boy-girl out on their balcony. He could see them, feel them, thrusting and thrusting with the crowd cheering below. And Tana surfaced again, sort of, his hand pressed tight against her belly as he drove into her, except—now her hair was short, her neck bare, pale, and exposed. In his mind he bit down and Tim's voice called his name in a guttural shout, and it was Tim's hips that were bucking hard back onto him, Tim's cock pumping into his fist, and Kon came, fevered and shaking, with a deep, bewildered groan.

  


>   
> "Coach made you write a report on soccer?"
> 
> Terry looked up from his notebook where he was scribbling out names and dates. "If I don't, I fail the term."
> 
> "Man, that sucks." Justin dropped onto the bench next to him. "So, are you going to be able to run track in the spring like usual?"
> 
> "Yeah, if I don't fuck up the cartilage again in the meantime. What're you down here for?"
> 
> "Bee stung me in the back of my knee," Justin said, lifting his leg up to show Terry the ugly red welt.
> 
> "Ew, does it hurt?"
> 
> "Nah, the trainer sprayed something on it, but I can't kick for shit, so they benched me."
> 
> "That sucks."
> 
> "Yeah. Hey, you wanna get out of here?"
> 
> Terry grinned. "Sure."
> 
> A few minutes later they were in the locker room. Terry didn't have to dress out, so he sat and drew in his notebook while he waited for Justin to get done with his shower. He must've gotten more engrossed in his drawing than he realized, because suddenly Justin was standing above him, dripping onto his shoulder.
> 
> "Dude, move!" Terry said, shielding the page.
> 
> "Is that me?" Justin asked, moving against Terry to look closer at the sketch of the muscular, dark haired guy in shorts, knee socks, and cleats. "You're really talented."
> 
> Terry wasn't sure what to say. Justin's bare, shower-damp skin was pressing against his side and he smelled, god, he smelled like soap and good, clean...something. He didn't know what. But Justin still wasn't moving away. He was leaning closer, letting Terry's hand snake over the towel wrapped around his waist. A shift of Justin's hips sent the towel to the floor. Terry scraped his fingernails up his back, and he could see Justin's shiver—the one that sent a little quiver through his balls.
> 
> "I, uh..."
> 
> "I watch you a lot," Terry said.
> 
> Justin nodded and licked his lips. "I see you sometimes."
> 
> Terry shoved his books aside with one hand and pulled Justin closer. The kiss was rough and hot   
> and seemed to go on forever, until Justin broke away to pull Terry's t-shirt over his head. The next kiss was wetter, deeper, and the feel of Justin's bare chest against his own was almost enough to send him over the edge. He let go of Justin's neck and unfastened his pants.
> 
> That was all Justin needed before he was pushing Terry's jeans down and planting himself between his knees. He looked up once, and then slid his mouth down on Terry's cock.  
> 

  
 

Kon looked up at the clock and was stunned to see that it was after two. He didn't know where the night had gone.

  


* * *

  
 

Thursday afternoon, Kon stopped in the school library to kill some time, and then walked home—taking the long way past the soccer fields. He watched for a while. The team was split between shirts and skins, and they were all sweating heavily in the afternoon sun. In this light, they were all beautiful, even the handful of them made unattractively sallow by classroom fluorescents. None of them were as outright gorgeous as Nightwing or Arsenal, but for normal, non-meta teenagers—

For the first time in a long time, Kon found himself remembering how Tim had looked in street clothes. And how he'd looked when Klarion had aged them to adulthood. Under the armor, Tim was just hot. And in about ten years he was going to be even...

A wave of self-consciousness spread over Kon as he turned away from the chain link fence and set off home. Ambling up the field, Justin—the real Justin—had caught him staring.

Chores and homework finished, Kon sat down at his computer to finish the story. He was getting nervous about it. This had gone from Cassie having a little fun at his expense to something he was actually invested in. And...he really wanted Tim to like it.

He found another story with a blowjob scene that he really liked, mostly because it felt real somehow. He didn't copy it word for word but he used a lot of details, like making Justin grip the base of Terry's dick and guide it into his mouth, and Terry's reaction to feeling Justin's hard, callused palm on his shaft in contrast with his soft, wet mouth on the head. Kon could imagine it...and that made it easier to write the part where Tim...no, Terry tangled his hands in Justin's hair and came down Justin's throat.

  


> Justin sat back on his heels and smiled with reddened lips. Terry felt like he was going to melt right through the bench onto the concrete floor. He was still too surprised to think, and now Justin was leaning forward again and kissing him. He could taste his own jizz in Justin's mouth and he decided maybe he liked it. Or maybe it was just the kiss—at this point, he didn't care. Justin was demanding, fucking his mouth with his tongue. He wanted more...and Terry finally recovered enough to realize Justin was still rock-hard and rubbing against his thigh.
> 
> When he pulled away, he saw Justin's dick, slick with precome, marking a damp blotch on his faded blue jeans. He looked up at the plain-faced clock on the locker room wall. It didn't seem possible that so little time had passed, but then none of this would've seemed possible only an hour ago.
> 
> "You're going to have to stand up," Terry said.
> 
> "Huh?"
> 
> "My knee brace won't let me bend my leg that far," Terry answered, hauling Justin up by the waist.
> 
> "I don't—" Justin cut himself off with a low moan as Terry drew his cock into his mouth with one hand, and pulled his hips closer with the other. "Oh, god, fuck me," Justin breathed, as Terry started pumping him against the back of his throat.
> 
> Terry moaned a little and sucked harder. Justin was bracing his knees against the insides of Terry's thighs and gripping his shoulders as if he were holding on for his life. Terry felt how close he was from the thrumming in his veins and firmly pressed a knuckle up behind Justin's balls.
> 
> Justin made a strangled noise in his throat and shot. It was hot in Terry's mouth and a little bitter. He swallowed it down and then swallowed again because Justin was still coming. Terry eased back and held the head softly in his mouth. He looked up and saw Justin flushed and shaking, biceps tense with their grip on his shoulders. Terry wondered if he'd have bruises.
> 
> Finally, he licked the slit clean and Justin trembled again. Terry caught him by the ribs as he sank to the floor and met him for another salty kiss. Justin pulled back, grinning. After a moment, Terry smiled at him and said, "We should probably get dressed."
> 
> Justin looked down at himself, red and drooping, and laughed. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said. Then he looked up and asked, "So, my mom won't get home till after seven. You want to come over?"  
> 

  
 

Kon stayed up another hour revising. He added more description to the beginning and spent a long time trying to decide what to make Terry look like. In real life he had bright red hair and blue eyes, but that didn't seem to fit with his inner vision. But then, his inner vision of Terry was nothing short of Tim...which...well, he couldn't bring himself to go _that_ far, so he made him a gray-eyed blond.

And then...Kon chewed his lip for a minute and pondered. On TV they always said that "names had been changed to protect the innocent," which he knew had something to do with a barely remembered conversation with Tana about the meanings of libel and slander. It made him wonder if he could get in trouble for using Justin and Terry as...stand-ins or models or whatever. Plus, the whole Terry-Tim T-name thing was really obvious now that he looked at it. He sat for a long time trying to think of good names that weren't straight off TV. Finally, after flipping through everything from his lit book to the residential pages, Kon replaced 'Justin' with 'Ethan' and 'Terry' with 'Mike'. It wasn't quite right, but it would cover his ass in a worst-case scenario. Or if Tim figured out where he lived and decided to look up the soccer team on the school website.

  


* * *

  
 

Friday, Kon's thrill over finishing the story evaporated. He was overcome by nerves. He didn't want Cassie or Bart, or any of the others, to read it. He'd never hear the end of the soccer jokes. It was for Tim. Only for Tim.

In the middle of his history quiz, he had a revelation. Cassie had only said to write it for Tim; she never specified that he had to let anyone else read it. He could email it to Tim, Tim could confirm that he'd written it and met the page requirement, and Cassie could pout all she wanted at being left out of the loop. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd destroy something in her disappointment. Then he could save the day and make her write him some really hot girl on girl action starring some seriously dangerous Themysciran babes. She'd kick his ass for it later, but it would be so worth it.

It was nearly four thirty by the time Kon got home and super-sped through his chores. Aunt Martha had made him an early dinner, "energy for the flight to California," she called it. It was a sweet gesture. Clark was lucky to have been raised by such nice people, even if they were hopelessly old fashioned. After he ate, he gave the story one last read-through, changed a couple of words, inserted a missing 'the', and saved the final draft.

Now he wasn't sure if he should email it, after all. Someone might hack it...except that their email security had been approved by Oracle, so that was next to impossible. Printing a hard-copy was too dangerous. Bart would simply take it, read it, and put it back in your hands before you realized it was missing. And then recite the entire thing from memory for the others. Kon took a deep breath and began composing the note.

> R,
> 
> Here goes. You're getting the only copy, so DON'T SHOW ANYONE!!! And don't let KF (or anyone else) read it over your shoulder. And don't print this out or leave it on your computer where anyone could see it or anything. You get the picture.
> 
> She said I had to write it for you. She didn't say anything about having to show anyone else. So, when she asks, just tell her I wrote it, okay? But don't let her read it.
> 
> If you want, you can tell me what you think. But you don't have to. And I didn't have an editor or anything, so if you think it's stupid or really bad, do me a favor and don't tell me.
> 
> See you when I get there.
> 
> K
> 
> [Attachment: benched.doc]   
> 

  
   
   


* * *

  
 

Kon flew fast, following the sun into the West. It was his favorite part of Fridays—flying straight at the sun for an hour and a half, then plummeting down over San Francisco Bay with sunset gleaming long and golden on the waves. This was the worst part of Smallville, and the biggest reason why he'd stayed in Hawaii for so long—other than not having any competition for the job of Official Superhero of the Fiftieth State. Plus, the babes. And Tana, though she would probably have gone with him anywhere. But Smallville only had oceans of brilliant green summertime corn, and then it would be surrounded by miles and miles of ugly dead stubble after harvest. Without his weekly dose of the Pacific, Kon wasn't sure what he would do.

He found Bart in the kitchen with Kory and Gar. "Hi! Have a sandwich," Bart said, producing one of his trademark fourteen-layer Kid Flash Classic Clubs out of thin air.

"Thanks, man," Kon said, and pulled a barstool up to the island. "Where is everyone?"

"Victor is in the Operations room," Kory answered, "Robin has not arrived yet, and Cassie is in her quarters."

"Sulking," Bart put in, shooting Kon a knowing look.

"How come?" Kon asked with his mouth full.

Gar turned himself into a puffin and flew a set of noisy spirals back and forth across the room. Kory tilted her head in confusion at the nasal "Oh? Ohh!" of Gar's birdsong, but then directed her words to Kon. "The game you four have been playing. We didn't understand that your nude flyover of the Golden Gate Bridge was not merely an adolescent prank."

"So, what...we're in trouble? What happened to being a team of equals?"

"Hey, chill out, man," Gar said, leaning against the sink in his normal body. "Nobody's in trouble."

Kory shifted in her seat to better address them both. "Being a team of equals is exactly our point, Kon. As Titans, we're used to a certain amount of..."

"Collateral damage," Gar supplied, "and while it's awesome that all of you are being more careful...we've got it covered. Like, at the corporate level."

Kon looked from Gar to Kory, incredulous. "You're saying you don't care if we break stuff?"

Kory fixed her disconcerting stare on Kon, and he did his best not to squirm. "What we do is already dangerous and difficult," she said gently. "We want you to look to your teammates for support, not punishment."

"But it's not like that!" Kon protested. "It was all in fun. I mean, after all we've been through together between YJ and now? We're friends. We wouldn't do anything to hurt each other."

"You don't feel that anyone pushed you too far?" Kory asked, frowning.

"They _couldn't_ make me do anything I wasn't willing to, even if they wanted to," Kon stated fiercely. "And they _wouldn't_ want to."

"That's true," Robin said from the doorway behind him. Kon turned his head and nodded. Tim nodded back and crossed the room. "Sorry I'm late."

"You're not. Have a sandwich," Bart said, brandishing another plate.

Kory turned to Bart. "And how do you feel about this?"

"I think..." Bart looked at each of them in turn, then back to Kory. "I think you really need to trust us more."

Kory nodded slowly. "All right. Gar, would you come with me to speak with Victor and Cassie? Also," she added, addressing them all, "we have a new tactical simulation routine to show you this evening, so please stay nearby."

"Cool," Kon said, and watched Gar and Kory traipse off toward Cyborg's domain.

"So, did you write it?" Bart asked when they were gone.

Kon finished chewing. "Yup."

"So when do we get to read it?" Bart was bouncing frenetically across the island from him.

Kon grinned and shook his head. "She only said I had to show Tim. She didn't say anything about the rest of you."

"Oh man, you suck!" Bart pounded a fist on the counter.

Tim snickered and Kon bit his tongue hard to keep him from saying anything, and then...he blinked in surprise. "Wait, you read it _already_?"

Tim nodded. "On the flight here."

"Dude, tell me you did not read my story sitting two feet away from Batman." Kon looked at him, pleading. "Tim."

Tim didn't say anything for a moment, and then answered with a smirk, "The seats aren't _quite_ that close."

Kon let out a loud groan and shoved back the stool. "You...I can't believe you did that!"

"He couldn't see what I was reading, Kon." Tim was perfectly calm, but Bart was sitting on the counter now, rolling with laughter.

Kon shook his head, at a loss for words. "I'm going for a swim."

  


* * *

  
 

Cassie was more aggressive than usual on the practice mat, but Kon was glad to let her punch it out of her system. He wouldn't break, and better him than any of the others. At the end of the bout, they were both dripping sweat and Bart was staring at her in awe. She normally held a tighter rein on her ferocity.

After training ended for the night and they'd all hit the showers, Cassie found him again in the common room. She stood there awkwardly for a moment. "Listen, Kon...." She trailed off, drumming her fingers on the edge of the entertainment center. "I'm really sorry if I was an ass. I just thought it was funny, you know?"

"Don't worry about it," he replied, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"You sure?"

"Well, it _is_ funny in hindsight, but it sure made for an interesting week."

"We're okay, though, right?" She smiled hopefully, but her eyes were still full of worry.

"Hey, come here," he said, and pulled her into a hug. She snuggled into him and he wished dimly, for the thousandth time, that Wonder Woman were out of the picture.

"I still want to read it," she murmured against his chest.

He stepped back, laughing. "That is so never going to happen."

She pouted. "So, what are you up to now?"

"Homework. I have to watch _To Kill a Mockingbird_ for class."

She raised her eyebrows. "And you're doing it _tonight_?"

Briefly, he considered a joke about the rich, sonorous tones of Gregory Peck lulling him to sleep. Then he remembered that war movie he'd sat and watched one night with the Kents. Aside from being filmed in black and white, young Gregory Peck would've been right up there with the soccer players. Kon shrugged and said, "Yeah." Between this and a kryptonite scalpel, it wasn't a tough decision.

"Okay, then," she replied. "I guess I'll go teach Bart how to braid hair."

Kon snorted. "Have fun with that."

  


* * *

  
 

Scout was shouting "Atticus!" from somewhere far away. Kon sat naked on a back porch swing, as Gregory Peck sucked his cock in surreal black and white, while the rest of the world fluttered by in sedate Technicolor. Kon woke with a start. His heart was pounding...and there was Tim's face all of two feet away.

Tim shook his shoulder again and looked down at him with an amused look on his face. Or, what he could see of his face. Tim had changed out of uniform, but, as usual, neglected to peel off his mask. "You should go to bed."

"That was the freakiest dream," he said as he got to his feet. "What are you doing up?"

"Prowling." Tim smirked.

Kon nodded, then shook his head. "One day I'll learn not to ask stupid questions."

Tim laughed and followed him to the boys' wing. In Kon's doorway, he paused, glancing at the bed. "Are you...?"

"Nah, I'm awake. Come on in...just give me a minute."

Tim shut the door behind him and waited while Kon finished in the bathroom. When Kon came out, dressed in pajama pants and a t-shirt, Tim was sitting on the foot of his bed. He had his mask in his hand and was folding it up into a tiny square.

Kon stared. He was just Tim now. Just a nervous-looking boy in dark gray sweats seated a few feet away on the end of his bed. "Tim...." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

Tim looked up at him, smirked self-consciously, and then said in a low voice, "You didn't really have to actually write it. You could've gotten off the hook."

"That would've been lame," Kon replied with a shrug. "Besides I've never done anything like it before, and since you were the only one who was going to see, I figured..."

"I'm glad you did."

"Uh, thanks, I guess."

Tim watched him for a moment, and then, slipping the mask into a pocket, stood up and moved a few steps closer.

"This...." Kon traced his fingers in an arc over his own temple and said, "I miss seeing your eyes. I mean," he stopped and swallowed nervously, "it's been a long time."

Tim flushed slightly, then met Kon's gaze again and closed the last step. He took Kon's hand in his own and drew it up to his face. "I want you to see me." Tim's voice was a bare whisper and his eyes were huge, full of things too big to say.

Kon's mouth went dry as his other hand rose up to stroke Tim's jaw. His eyes were so blue, the lashes so dark. He hadn't seen Tim's naked, undisguised face in...ages. Kon bent forward and kissed him softly, tentatively on the lips. Then he kissed him again, feeling Tim's lips part and his hands slide up Kon's back, pulling him in. Tim's mouth was soft, hot, and he was deepening the kiss hungrily, demanding more.

Kon raked his fingers through Tim's hair, kissing harder, and trying not to think. This was his best friend in his arms, his best friend who never showed himself to anyone if he could help it, who'd taken off his mask tonight. For him.

After a breath, Kon pressed his lips against Tim's forehead, kissing gently from there, down to each eyelid, and back to his lips. Then he looked into Tim's eyes again and whispered, "I do. I see you."

Something new shone back at him, as if another veil had dropped away. "I want—so much, Kon."

"I want you," Kon said, kissing him deeply and guiding them back toward the bed. They collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs and shared a long moan as their hips made contact. Kon kissed him again, more urgently. Tim had a hand at his waist, and was pulling his shirt up and scraping a hand up his chest. The other hand was sliding down under his waistband and over his ass.

Kon bent backwards to pull off his t-shirt. He needed Tim's hands on his skin, his everything on his skin. Tim leaned up, clutching Kon's ass in both hands now, and bit a hard kiss to one nipple and then the other. His hips were arching against him and the friction was so—

"Stop," Kon panted, pulling completely away to shove his hand down his pants and squeeze himself hard. He'd been on the verge of what might have been a wet dream when Tim woke him. All this so soon was far, far too much to handle.

Tim's answer was to strip off his sweatshirt, sweatpants, and boxers, and then to push Kon's pajama pants down past his knees. Tim sprawled back, propping himself up on his elbows. His cock was full, bobbing against his navel. "Come here," he said, motioning with his hands.

Kon made a low noise in his throat and crawled back over him, kicking his legs free and straddling Tim's hips. And then Tim's tongue was fucking his mouth and Tim's hands were wrapped around both of them, and every time he looked up, Tim's eyes were open and blue and drinking him in, and Tim's skin was fever-hot against his own. Each thrust made it even more...hot, wet, amazing. Kon came mid-kiss, thrusting into Tim's grip, shouting into his mouth, and Tim was there, too, in a trembling surge beneath him, and the kiss lingered of its own slow-witted accord.

At some point Kon rolled over onto his back. He was vaguely aware when Tim's left hand interlaced with Kon's right. Sometime later, Kon turned his head and found Tim opening his eyes. Kon grinned and Tim smiled back, drawing Kon's forefinger down through the mess on his belly. Then, eyes glittering, he sucked Kon's finger slowly, thoroughly clean. Kon moaned. He was instantly hard again, and Tim moved in to explore him.

Several hours later, Kon awoke to the brightening sky. Tim was curled up in the blanket, one arm thrown possessively across Kon's waist, which was crusty with dried sweat and semen. They both reeked of sex, and it was perfect. Kon lay there watching him, thinking about mornings after and wondering if Tim was going to freak. He hoped not. They'd talked a little before falling asleep about not telling the others. The last thing they wanted was to play a thousand and one questions with Bart. And Cassie might be a little bit furious.

He kissed Tim on the forehead, then the cheek, and then, after he turned his face out of his pillow, his mouth. Tim blinked awake slowly and stretched. Kon could see the exact moment he realized where he was and why. Then a contented smile rose to Tim's lips and Kon kissed him again, not bothering to hide his relief. "Wake up," Kon said, pulling the blanket back.

"It's cold. Come back in here," Tim protested and burrowed deeper.

Kon got out of bed, found Tim's sweats for him, and pulled his own hardly-worn pajamas back on.

"What are you doing?" Tim asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

Tim muttered something inaudible, but wrestled himself into his clothes as curiosity won out over lack of sleep. Kon tossed him a pair of thick socks and grabbed the blanket from the bed.

A few minutes later, they stood on the rooftop, Tim shivering in his arms and mumbling something about insulated uniforms. The sun was just peeking up over the San Francisco skyline and golden light rippled over the surface of the bay, while in the far distance the western sky darkened to a deep, murky violet. Kon wrapped himself around Tim, nuzzling the side of his neck as his cock pressed companionably against his ass.

The wind was in their faces as they gazed out at the water. Kon nibbled at Tim's neck, making Tim shiver in a better, warmer way. Tim pulled one of Kon's hands inside the blanket and held it firmly against his chest.

"Sometimes I really miss Hawaii," Kon said in a low voice. "I used to spend so much time watching the ocean. I'd come out at sunset, and sunrise too if I was up, and watch the light on the waves and listen to the surf roll in." Tim nodded and pushed closer into Kon's embrace. "In Gotham, well, you've got the Atlantic right there, but—"

"The Pacific is different," Tim said softly, tilting his head back on Kon's shoulder. "It's a completely different kind of ocean."

"Exactly," Kon said, and then his voice dropped to a whisper against Tim's ear. "For me, it's kind of like...home. More than Metropolis ever was, I mean."

Tim turned in his arms and met his eyes with a smile. "Thank you for showing me."

Kon bent to kiss him. He wasn't sure why this had become such a big deal to him, but it had. And the fact that Tim seemed to get it, maybe, or was at the very least willing to listen...maybe this wouldn't be a one-time thing after all.

Kon kissed him again, oblivious to the wind whipping around them. Tim's mouth was turned up in its familiar amused curve, but without the mask Kon could see the bright twinkle in the blue eyes. He liked it. He was going to be really annoyed when the mask went back on and he couldn't see it anymore.

Tim caught his hand and grazed at the pads of his fingertips. His eyes were flaring even brighter. "Let's go take a shower before the others wake up."

Kon traced his fingers over Tim's mouth. He smiled, taking Tim's hand, and followed him in.


End file.
